


May I Be Your Shield

by EllanaSan



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: "Let's Wing It!" Fic Exchange, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, It's alive!, Wings, grace is a thing for angels, it's a bit cracky so roll with me, prompt, second entry, well kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 01:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11818827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: Newly restored grace, temporarily sentient wings that won't let Chloe away from Lucifer, the small matter of her partner being the devil... Chloe would like to say it's business as usual.





	May I Be Your Shield

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mia_Vaan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Vaan/gifts).



> This is my second entry for the “Let’s Wing It!” Fic Exchange. My prompter was Mia Vaan and she prompted the song “May I” by Trading Yesterday. (Listen [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZlFqz7NnoX4) and find lyrics [Here](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/tradingyesterday/mayi.html) )  
> I hope you enjoy it because I had so much fun with this one… I guess it could be considered crack-ish in a way… Let’s just say Chloe gives a new sense to the words wing kink. I really hope you enjoy it half as much as I enjoyed your prompt, Mia!

To be very honest, Chloe had figured it out a long time ago.

She stood in the middle of the penthouse and hugged herself, worries and doubts gnawing at her stomach. There were no white sheets covering furniture this time around. An empty glass had been abandoned on the opened piano, a book was propped on the couch’s armrest and the glass door to the balcony had been left ajar… Signs were all there for who knew how to read them.

When Lucifer had left the penthouse, he had fully expected to come back.

And yet it had been three days since the bouncers, the barman, and the dancers had seen him. It had been three days since Linda had waved him goodbye in her hospital room. It had been three days since he had left a message on Chloe’s voicemail that had made her hold her breath in part in anticipation and in part in relief. At least until she had realized that he should have been at her house already.

She had thought he had changed his mind at first, that he had caved to his obvious fears and had run home.

_No more going backwards…_

But it had never been that easy for Lucifer to go forwards, had it? And it wasn’t any more easy for her. So… So, she had given him a day. And then she had really started to worry.

And now it had been three days and she was looking at a missing person case.

Maze had waved it off, too focused on Linda. _He does that_ , her friend had said. Linda had frowned, clearly not as convinced as her roommate was, and had studied Chloe for a long time before telling her to look for him. Amenadiel had been unreachable no matter how many times she or Dan tried.

That had been that morning.

Now she was standing in his penthouse and she was _really_ worried.

What if he was gone for good?

What if he had gone back to…

She rubbed her face and forced herself to focus. _Proceed with methods._ There was no trace of struggling, no trace of a fight… She would check the garage, she decided. Then she would call the precinct, report his disappearance in, ask Ella to find his car or his phone or anything that could…

Something huge canon-balled into the windows, making her jump back but not quite in time not to get caught in the rain of wayward glass.

She found herself crouching with a defensive arm in front of her face, a few cuts stinging the back of her hands and her forehead, and all she could think when she saw the huge mess of bloodied feathers was that a bird had crashed in the bay window. A huge bird.

A very huge, very human shaped bird.

So, yeah, to be honest, Chloe had figured it out a long time ago.

Denial was all well and good, not trying to resolve the mysteries of _faith_ was all well and good, but she was a Detective and at the end of the day she was good at figuring stuff out. And if the numerous unexplainable things weren’t enough, the debacle on the pier had been the last drop. It wasn’t just him and Charlotte standing right there one second and then down on the beach the next or Charlotte’s sudden amnesia. It wasn’t just the charred bodies and her weird roommate or Linda’s avoidance when it came to certain subjects. It was a lot of little things, a lot of clues that her mind had patiently been adding together despite her determination to give him the benefits of the doubt.

She had wanted him to tell her one last time, one last time when she could finally say she believed him and meant it.

No more going backwards for her or for him. _Forwards_. She had wanted to go forwards.

Lucifer was the devil.

They had come at a point when all other conclusions were more far-stretched than that one. _Once you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth_. And, really, Sherlock Holmes had a point because she had started eyeing the X-Men dvds with a pensive look lately. Lucifer being the devil made more sense than him being a mutant, didn’t it?

Lucifer was the devil.

She had established that fact.

And yet she was still gawking at the mess of feathers and human skin because it was one thing to have it figured out and another to find herself presented with a proof in the form of wings. Huge beautiful wings that seemed to _pulse_ with something so entirely pure and…

She blinked.

She rubbed her face.

She brushed the glass off her and slowly took a step closer to better see.

The wings remained.

Wings.

 _Wings_.

She remembered seeing them at that auction, remembered having choked as if she had been punched in the chest. They had been _so_ beautiful that _beautiful_ seemed a poor choice of word to describe them. She had felt she could be easily blinded if she looked too long at them, like staring straight at the sun, like staring straight at…

Her eyes finally travelled the length of a long twisted wing and found flesh.

And then, in a flash, she was crouching next to Lucifer because, wings or not, he was _hurt_. He was lying on his stomach and the skin on his nape, shoulders and lower back was burned. She wasn’t sure where the blood was coming from. As far as she could tell, there was no wound but the feathers were covered with it. Splashes of red on immaculate white.

She tried to think of a way to turn him around, on his back, but came to a blank. Would she hurt the wings if she simply rolled him over? They would twist under him, wouldn’t they? He would crush them… He would…

Something that sounded a lot like a growl escaped his chest and she almost jumped back because it sounded… _feral_.

“Lucifer?” she whispered, her voice low and unsure.

“Detective?” He lifted his head a little, or at least tried to, and frowned when he finally spotted her. “Detective, you’re hurt.”

She automatically pressed her fingers against her forehead where she had got cut, wiping the small trickle of blood away. The chuckle started in her throat and then erupted into a laugh. It was a bit hysterical maybe but, _hey_ , her partner had _wings_ , her partner was _the devil_. Concessions had to be made.

“Look who’s talking.” she managed to retort eventually when her laughter finally calmed down. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips but he looked mostly uncertain, guarded almost. And feverish. Really feverish. Cursing herself for her stupidity, she reached for him and then let her hand drop, certain that if she tried to touch him she would hurt him. He was burned all over. “Where _were_ you?”

Should she call an ambulance? But how would she explain the wings?

“Desert.” he muttered, letting his head fall back against the floor. She winced when she realized it was still covered in glass and he would hurt himself even more. “How traditional. You would think dear old Dad would think of somewhere new to do some soul-searching after a few prophets.”

She licked her lips and forced herself to focus. _Desert_. That exclaimed the burns. Three days. He had been in the desert for three days. It was a miracle he was still alive.

 _Literally_ probably.

“We should…” she hesitated. “Can you stand?”

He groaned but humored her by pushing himself to his knees. She caught him before he could topple over, wrapping an arm around his waist and sneaking another one under his armpit, careful not to touch any… _feathery appendage_. He groaned again and she supposed she must have been hurting him, his skin was less sunburned than _torched_.

But she couldn’t let him lie on the floor so…

“Hold on.” she encouraged, hauling him up. The moment she had him upward, the wings soared behind him, knocking an armchair out of the way as well as a few books from the nearest bookshelf. It narrowly missed the giant TV screen. They were longer than she had thought. And they didn’t look in a good shape. “Where is the blood coming from?” she frowned as she helped him to the couch. “I can’t see any…”

“I overdid it.” he cut her off, glaring at the feathers over his shoulder. “And I _might_ have tried to rip them off too.”

A shudder rippled through the wings and Chloe gasped in horror, something rebelling hard in her at the very thought of those beautiful pure things getting… She let go of his shoulder to touch the nearest one, petting it slowly as if to comfort it. As if it was a living thing and not… The wings shuddered again but, this time, it didn’t seem to be in distaste. The _pulsing_ was stronger. She could feel it under her palm and she pressed her hand a little harder, letting her fingers dig into the feathers. It was difficult to explain but it was as if the _pulsing_ turned into a _purr_. A silent mystical purr.

“Chloe.” Lucifer said softly and she blinked, coming back to Earth to realize he was still leaning heavily on her and was probably making a huge effort to remain on his feet right then. He was injured and that should be the priority.

She flushed crimson. “Sorry.”

She helped him to the couch and watched as he slumped back against the cushions only to sit up straighter when his shoulder blades hit the leather. His jaw was clenched against the pain and she took a closer look at his injuries.

“It will heal.” he dismissed after a few seconds of her standing there and wondering if she could find a doctor who wouldn’t be phased by the wings. “Water?”

Water, yes. He must have been terribly dehydrated. She turned around to fetch a glass or a bottle or _something_ but the wings immediately curled around her, trapping her in a protective embrace and almost making her fall on Lucifer. She caught herself on the back of the couch but it was a near miss.  She met his feverish eyes in the cage of feathers, a little puzzled. He looked embarrassed.

“My apologies, Detective.” he said, less smoothly than usual. His voice was rough as if his throat was parched. And it _would_ be, she supposed. “It seems my wings took a liking to you.”

She frowned. “Are they… Are they _alive_?”

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the arch of one of the wings. “In a matter of speaking. Right now they’re a physical representation of my newly restored grace. No wonder they’re so attracted to you…”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked defensively because the last part had been muttered with some resentment.

“It means you have a gift for bringing the angel out of the devil.” he retorted, almost accusatory, a flash of red in his eyes when he glared at her. It was gone in a second and he rubbed his face. “Sorry. I am…”

“It’s okay.” she waved any further apology away.

There was more urgent. She gave a gentle push on the closest wing. It pulsed in clear disappointment. She wondered what else it could pulse with and then she very quickly, very deliberately buried that thought deep, _deep_ down because the last thing they needed right now was her developing a wing kink. The horns she sometimes dream about were bad enough. The wing fell away to let her go but she _clearly_ felt its amusement.

It was weird how _not_ weird the whole thing was.

When she came back with the water, Lucifer seemed to have gone worse. His chest lifted slowly but fell down fast, he looked flushed and his eyes were too bright. She handed him the glass of water but instructed him to go slow and was actually forced to take it away for a moment when he gulped it down eagerly.

“You will make yourself sick.” she chided him in the same voice she used with Trixie.

“Detective?” he asked, sounding lost and vulnerable.

It worried her.

“I’m right here.” she promised, helping him sip more water. “You should get some rest.”

“Bed.” he requested.

It seemed a better solution than leaving him on the couch so she helped him up and to his bedroom. He was asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow curled up on his side, one of the wing spread under his body and the other one curled around him. She sat on the edge of the mattress for a while, careful not to crush any feather, simply watching him, reassuring herself that he was breathing and he would be alright. He _had_ to be. He was the devil. The devil didn’t die from a little sunburn. The devil didn’t burn. The devil…

_Lucifer was the devil._

It struck her again.

Lucifer was _the devil_.

She waited for the fear but it never came. The whole thing was mind-blowing. Angels and god and… What was Charlotte Richards? Or who had she _been_? Lucifer’s mother. Did that make her a goddess? It was a lot to take in. A lot. But fear… Fear of _him_. No, that never came.

How could she be afraid of _Lucifer_?

He was her partner, her best friend, her…

She stroke the wing curled on top of his body and it twitched under her hand. In his sleep, Lucifer let out something that sounded like a moan – not a pained moan either – and she quickly took her hand back and cleared her throat.

“Naughty grace.” she whispered, feeling stupid.

If wings could laugh, she was sure those ones were in guffaws.

She called Maze because she didn’t know what else to do. There was a very long silence after she was done, followed by a clipped _“On my way.”_. Before she could say anything else, her friend – who was apparently _a demon_ – had hung up.

At a loss for what to do, Chloe wandered back in Lucifer’s bedroom. She wanted to justify it by claiming that someone needed to watch over him but, really, no justification was needed. She just wanted to make sure he was alright.

She took advantage of his being asleep to check his back, still worried about all the blood. The skin at his shoulder blades where the crescent shaped scars used to be was raw and even more reddish than the rest of him but there were no gaping wounds. The blood bothered her though. It had no place on something so… _pure_.

She wasn’t sure how one went about cleaning feathers so she simply filled a bucket with water, found a soft cloth and went to work, hoping Lucifer wouldn’t wake up to find her sitting next to him with her back to the headboard. His right wing uncurled from around his body without resistance and seemed to pulse in contentment when she started cleaning it. Clearly, she was doing something right. It made her smile.

He would have hated the comparison but he reminded her of a cat.

She wasn’t sure how it worked exactly. What _was_ grace? Was it like a soul? His angelic essence? He had said it was newly restored… Was it because he had gotten rid of the first pair of wings? Or had it happened before that? Her biblical history was a little blurry and she almost texted Ella for clarifications. He had fallen. That much she knew. Had his grace been ripped apart then?

The wing shuddered under her hands. She supposed it was an answer in itself.

She petted it, forgetting all about cleaning the blood stains. She petted it and Lucifer let out a soft sigh in his sleep and rolled to his other side, pressing his forehead against her thigh. One of her hand left the wing to hover over his head. Eventually she found her courage and combed her fingers though his hair.

“Chloe.” he mumbled.

“Yes.” she hummed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Not awake…” he murmured.

She snorted but let him be after making sure he took a few more sips of water. He needed the rest.

She went back to getting the blood off his feathers – and what had her life come to exactly?

After a few minutes, she heard hurried footsteps and Maze barged in the bedroom. Her roommate froze a little past the threshold, stared at the wings, then at Lucifer, then at Chloe, then at the wings again and then, at last, at the cloth she was using to clean him up.

“Get out, Decker.” Maze ordered.

And from all the things she had expected her friend to say, she had never imagined that one.

“No.” she protested, not understanding why Maze was so hostile all of a sudden. “He’s hurt. I’m staying.”

Maze was at her side in seconds, hauling her off and away from the bed. “It’s exactly why you need to get out.”

Chloe shrugged her off and glared at her. “What in hell…”

Maybe she shouldn’t have brought up hell.

The growl was similar to the one from before. A powerful predatory sound that had all the hairs on her body raising to attention. She whirled around, her hand falling on her gun, only to find Lucifer crouching on the bed, wings spread wide behind him in what was clearly an intimidating posture, head tilted to the side and eyes burning red. His skin wasn’t just sunburned now. It was… It looked burned so badly it was almost _leather._ Deep scars ran everywhere.

The fire in his eyes…

She took a step back and immediately regretted it when his attention snapped to her. Something softer passed on his face, dulled the wrath in his gaze for a second… Then one of his wigs moved in a ruffle that seemed as loud as thunder and she found herself flung toward the bed to his side, crushed to the mattress by a feathery blanket that suddenly weighted tons when it had felt so light on her knees earlier.

“She stays, Mazikeen.” Lucifer hissed and he might as well have roared for the way it seemed to _boom_ in the room.  

The wing was _humming_ with barely contained power and _now_ Chloe was freaking out. It didn’t look all cute and fluffy anymore.

“What happened?” Maze answered and Chloe was amazed at how _even_ she sounded. Not a tiny bit afraid of the powerful being crouching protectively over her.

It _clicked_ then what he was doing.

And the wing that was holding her down seemed to lighten as if to confirm it. He was trying to _protect_ her. Maze had tried to take Chloe away and…

Forgetting about being afraid, she pushed the wing off her. It resisted for a few seconds before finally giving in, allowing her to sit with a little more dignity. She pursed her lips and glared at Lucifer who still looked feverish. He did look a little sheepish though, his sunburned face looking back at her. She wondered how he did that, hide his other face so flawlessly, and then brushed that aside for now because it was the least urgent thing on her list of things to ask.  

“I need you to stay.” he pleaded as if it explained everything.

“Lucifer, you’re _injured_!” Maze sighed impatiently as if it made any sense at all. “The further away she gets, the quicker you’re back on your feet.”

Chloe frowned and opened her mouth to ask what she meant but she found herself wrapped in a wall of feathers again. She strained her neck to see over it, grabbing the delicate arched bone at the top to push it down. “This is getting _old_ , Lucifer!”

“I can’t control it.” he gritted through clenched teeth. “I need you to _stay_.”

Maze and Chloe exchanged a worried look.

“What do you mean you can’t control it?” her roommate asked, taking a step closer. Lucifer let out one of those growls again but the woman – _demon_? – simply rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to take her away, okay? I just want a closer look.”

Lucifer didn’t relax. Chloe could feel his tension. She placed a hand on his arm, hoping to calm him down a little but she had to take her hand away. He was too warm. His skin was _burning_.

“Your fever…” she started.

“It’s not the fever.” he cut her off. “It’s _me_. We’re trying to… We’re trying to find a balance. It’s taking its toll on my body.”

“We?” Maze repeated before she could, brushing her fingers against the feathers.

The wings immediately folded back behind Lucifer, as far from her as they could get, it looked almost defensive to Chloe. Freed, at last, the detective didn’t dare move though. She was pretty sure if she tried to step away from Lucifer, a wing would snatch her back.

Maze looked hurt and Lucifer outstretched a hand, finally falling from his crouch to his butt. It made him look a little less like a bird of prey. “It’s not me, Maze! I can’t control it! They know who you are.”

All the dissociation between him and parts of him was starting to make Chloe wary. She sought Maze’s gaze. “Should we call Linda?”

Maybe the devil needed a good phone call with his therapist. Maybe…

“They know I cut them off?” Maze asked, grabbing the outstretched hand, apparently not bothered by how _hot_ his skin was. They both completely ignored her. “They’re the _same_?”

Lucifer hesitated and then gave a tired shrug. “I don’t know. They’re… They’re pure grace. Untainted.”

“Samael.” her roommate murmured with sudden understanding.

“They’re his. _Mine._ ” Lucifer confirmed with a disgusted wince. “The grace… It’s old and new. I’m trying to _assimilate_ it. I don’t want it changing me. I don’t…”

“But what _happened_?” Maze insisted, letting go of his hand to cross her arms in front of her chest. “Who did this? _Why?_ ”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Without warning, he lied down and curled up against Chloe’s leg. Chloe who was getting really annoyed at being ignored. “Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

Maze looked calculating and a little guarded. She watched warily for a second. “Lucifer is _really_ the devil.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Maze. The wings were a big clue.”

Her friend’s gaze became even more intense. “It doesn’t bother you? You don’t feel like freaking out a little? Run for the hills? Grab your kid and never look back?”

“She can’t go. I need her.” Lucifer snarled again.

The powerful divine being act was still impressive but it was looking less and less terrifying every time he used it to demand her presence in a needy tone. Like a sulking little boy, complete with that endearing pout.

“I’m not going anywhere.” she snapped. “Stop all that growling.” He muttered something under his breath but his wing suddenly draped itself over her lap, pulsing with satisfaction. “Okay, this is _weird_. Can wings or grace or whatever talk? Because I swear this one is talking to me.”

“It’s… _uninhibited_. It’s new and pure and it doesn’t get it should shut up.” Lucifer grumbled. “It will fade once the whole thing settles down.”

“You can’t fold them yet?” Maze asked knowingly.

“He folded them earlier. He flew. They work fine.” Chloe replied, feeling defensive on the wings’ behalf. She found herself petting the one on her lap again, encouraged when she felt the answering purr.

“She means fold them in another dimension so humans can’t see them anymore.” he explained, reaching out to physically force his wing off her lap. There seemed to be a struggle he was too weak to win. After a few seconds, he gave up and dropped his arm back on the bed with a defeated sigh. “Please stop petting them. You don’t know what you’re doing but I am pretty sure you wouldn’t approve of what it’s _actually_ doing to _me_. Unless you changed your mind about sleeping with me – in which case, please don’t let me stop you, Detective.”

Maze snorted.

She stopped combing her fingers through the feathers but didn’t take her hands away. “That’s not at all the vibe I get from it. It’s… _happy_.”

“It’s pure and untainted by sin.” Lucifer flashed her a tired grin that still managed to look cocky. “I can assure you _I_ am not.” All thoughts of innuendos seemed to fall away, suddenly he looked serious, even suspicious. “Maze has a point. You look particularly unfazed by all this.”

“Isn’t that what you were coming to tell me before your trip to the desert?” she retorted. “I’m not _stupid_ , Lucifer. I can put two and two together.” She pursed her lips and averted her eyes. “Besides, it’s better than you being a X-man.”

“I _knew_ you were a little too obsessed with that movie.” Maze triumphed with a finger pointed straight at her chest. Her roommate nodded knowingly, biting down on her bottom lip. “You had wet dreams about it?”

“Maze.” she hissed. “Back to the point?”

“Right.” Maze scowled, dropping on the bed. The wing shuddered away from her and Lucifer rolled his eyes but this time Maze didn’t seem to care. “You don’t look so good, Lucifer. You need to heal.”

“I need the detective more.” he countered.

“Stop.” Chloe cut in, decided to get answers this time around. “Why does he need me to go to heal?”

“Where do you want to start?” her roommate sighed. “His powers don’t work on you, he’s mortal around you, oh, and Amenadiel touched your mom once and that’s how she got pregnant with you. Congratulations on being the first miracle in centuries. Now…”

“ _What_?” she snapped.

The wing tightened around her, letting out short comforting pulses.

“I am sorry, Chloe…” Lucifer said, glaring at his… _demon_. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

Her whole world was tilting on its axe – _again._ She could barely grasp what it _meant_.

“How… How long have you known?” she asked because it was the only thing that made sense. How long had they been keeping something like that from her? It was one thing to keep their true identities from her – although Lucifer had never really lied about that, had he? – but not telling her something that concerned _her_ …

“Since you were poisoned.” Maze shrugged. “That’s why he left.”

“Enough, Mazikeen.” Lucifer growled, the air almost crackling with power again. Without thinking twice about it, Chloe placed a hand on his shoulder and the charge dissipated. She left it on his skin as long as she could bear but his flesh was like solid lava. Her palm _hurt_ when she took it away. “Please, Detective, let me explain…”

She made the devil vulnerable. She made the devil… _Scratch that_. She made _Lucifer_ vulnerable.

“You can be killed around me?” she whispered. “It’s the _only_ way you can be killed?”

“Demonic blades would do it too.” Maze offered helpfully. “Or another angel. But it’s pretty difficult to kill one.”

“You should have stayed away from me! If I can get you killed… Why the hell didn’t you stay away from me?!” she hissed in anger, pushing the wing off her lap.

She tried to get away from the bed but this time it wasn’t a wing that held her back, it was a very human, very burned arm wrapped around her middle. He was strong too. She could feel it. If he had wanted he could have snapped her in two. And it should have made her terrified but instead she found herself blinking back tears because she was the one who could reduce that power to nothing. _She_ was his _kryptonite_.

“Trust me when I say that hell couldn’t keep me away, darling.” he said quietly, _seriously_. His lips twitched with no real humor. “It tried.”

She stopped struggling away from him, wondering if that was a figure of speech or an actual thing that had happened, wondering how much she had missed, wondering… His arm was too hot. He must have realized because he took it away but it was immediately replaced by the wing as if he couldn’t bear not being in contact with her. But her touch was exactly what was preventing him from healing, wasn’t it?

“If I go away, you will get better.” she concluded out loud.

“If you go away I will jump out the window and fly after you.” he warned and then deflated. “Unless you don’t want anything to do with me anymore, which I would more than understand.”

“Don’t be stupid.” she hissed, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. “ _Of course_ , I don’t want you to disappear but…”

“You do understand everything was orchestrated by my Father, right?” he insisted. “Your very being, our meeting, what you would mean to me…” The wing pulsed with something so pure and deep, so unfamiliar, that it took her a while to recognize it for what it was. Love in its purest form. Untainted. Freed from desire or selfishness. Just _love_. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling. It was so huge, so beautiful, so far from her human understanding that… “Yes.” Lucifer sighed. “Thank you, grace. I think she gets the point. _Do_ quit before you fry her brain.”

It took her a few minutes to stop crying.

“You broke her.” Maze growled, sounding angry.

Lucifer lifted his head to glare at her and then scooted back to sit against the headboard, giving Chloe some space. The wing slid off her lap but the tip of it remained in contact with her side.

“I… I…” she stammered. She wanted to reciprocate. She really did. But the feelings had been so intense, so… _huge_.

“It’s alright, Chloe.” Maze offered. “Just don’t rush it.”

She took a few deep breaths and pressed her hands against her face until she felt a bit more… _herself_. It was difficult not to be dazzled by… Well, _everything_.

She felt small and insignificant compared to the vastness of…

“You need me to go away to heal.” she repeated after a few minutes, backtracking to what they had been talking about before the Technicolor show of his love for her. She didn’t want to leave him, truth be told. The wings were calling to her like a siren’s call. The pulsing told her they needed her there. That she needed to _be_ there.

“I need you here.” Lucifer countered. “My body… My body is not important. It can get better later. It’s inside I need to heal and I need you for that.”

“Why?” she frowned.

“I don’t know.” he shrugged. “I just _know_.” He gave her a small smile. “I told you… You bring the angel out.” He glared at his wings. “I feel more powerful than I have been in a very, _very_ long time and the grace hasn’t completely settled in yet. Keeping someone around who can tame the devil doesn’t seem like a bad idea.”

“I can watch you.” Maze said, a bit vexed.

“You can watch me but you cannot keep me contained if it becomes necessary.” Lucifer snapped through clenched teeth.

“Is that a dare?” her friend snorted.

The air felt charged again. Lucifer didn’t move but he seemed to grow taller somehow, there was fire in his eyes again and Maze actually shifted her weight on her feet as if she was dying to run away from his fury.

The wings seemed of a mind to smite her on the spot. Chloe whacked them in rebuke.

Both Lucifer and Maze stared at her as if she had grown a second head but, she noticed, the tension was gone.

“This grace thing… You said you didn’t want it to change you…” Chloe said, ignoring their bemusement. “You called it…”

“Samael.” he supplied.

“Yes.” she frowned. “Is it… Is it trying to take over? Like… stealing your body away from you?”

Because she wasn’t sure she liked the wings that much anymore if that was the case.

She liked Lucifer just like he was, flaws and all.

“Not quite.” he winced. “Samael was who I was a long time ago. I… My grace was torn to shreds when I Fell. Now it’s… It’s growing around the new spark, if you will, smoothing out scar tissues I would rather keep as a reminder. The pain made me who I am. I don’t want anything magically easing it. I don’t want to forget.”

“Grace is like a soul.” she tried to understand, going back to her analogy from earlier.

“Of a sort.” he agreed. “It’s… _power_ too. When Maze cut my wings… Another fragment of it was torn away. When I got my wings back, it came back with them except it has been remade anew and it doesn’t understand how the rest of it had been mutilated so badly and it’s trying to repair it, to restore me to full power.”

“It doesn’t explain how or why.” Maze cut in, her eyes on the wings.

“It can wait.” Chloe decided. Once Lucifer was better, they could investigate. They were good at that after all.

Her roommate didn’t quite look satisfied with that and stood up. “I will try to get a hold on Amenadiel. If someone shows up, we might need back up.”

By someone, Chloe suspected she meant another angel.

She waited until Maze had gone into the other room to shift so she was sitting cross-legged in front of Lucifer. What she really wanted was to hold him close, to make sure he was alright, but she could still feel the heat of his body from where she was.

“You really don’t know why this grace wants me around so much?” she asked.

Lucifer avoided her gaze. “I have theories.”

“I’m listening.” She smiled when his wings closed around them. She should have felt claustrophobic but it was actually nice. It felt… _Safe_.

“It could be because you are a miracle.” he offered “Or…” He shifted awkwardly. “Well…” He was clearly reluctant to reveal the theory he most believed in. She instinctively lifted her hand and ran it over the wall of feathers. He sucked in a breath. “Darling, when you do that…”

“Does it feel bad?” she asked curiously. The pulse irradiated genuine pleasure at being petted but he _had_ said it was a little bit less innocent for him.

“The _very_ opposite.” he grinned, lifting both eyebrows.

Fighting her smirk, she stroke the inside of his wing again. Deliberately slowly.

He licked his lips, his eyes darkening in obvious arousal. “Now… I wouldn’t mind revisiting this particular scenario at a later date but, as much as it desolates me, you best keep your hands to yourself right now, Detective. Add to this fever and we might literally light the sheets on fire.”

She snatched her hand back and placed both of them on her lap, careful not to touch him or the wings. It was a bit frustrating.

“What’s your other theory?” she asked softly.

The leer instantly vanished from his face and he looked away again, uncertain. “It’s trying to make me feel better, to… repair the damages. And you… Well, _you_ …”

“Being with me makes you happy.” she finished for him.

He smiled but it was a little sad. “I tried to rebel against His scheme, you know. It was too late for me but I thought I could at least give you back your right to free will.”

“Oh, I think it was too late for me too.” she admitted, a bit wary to reveal that much despite the unmistakable proof of what he felt for her. He had hurt her before. He would hurt her again. But that was what love was, wasn’t it? Giving someone the power to hurt you beyond repairs. Trusting that they wouldn’t. “And I don’t really regret it.”

“No?” he asked hopefully, tilting his head to the side to better study her.

“No.” she confirmed and there was no containing the smile blossoming on her lips.

He smiled back and it was like the whole room had been lit up. Literally. He _glowed_ with light. She gaped a little and he laughed and, for a moment, he looked… _carefree_ but in an innocent way. Then the light became blinding and she had to close her eyes.

“You can look now.” he murmured after a couple of minutes. “I have it under control.” She opened her eyes slowly. The wings were still faintly glowing and it was… breathtaking. “For I am Samael, Bringer of The Light.” he hummed with some faint bitterness. She looked at him in fear and confusion, afraid the grace _had_ taken over after all but he simply waved it off. “Light used to be my special thing, Detective. Stars… Oh, how I used to love swimming amongst them…”

He looked tired and she almost suggested he got some more rest but she knew he would deny her so she simply propped her head on her hand and watched him. “Tell me about it.”

“About swimming amongst the stars?” He grinned like a little boy. “Gladly.”

He talked and talked until his voice started growing quieter and the wings slowly fell from around them. It felt… odd to find herself back on his bed, in his bedroom… The sun had set and the stars he liked so much could barely be seen behind the clouds and the nightlights of the city. Hours must have passed. It took her a few seconds to find her bearings, to go back from the divine to the more prosaic world they lived in.

Her glance at the window was enough for the wings to have disappeared when she looked back at him.

It would have been easy to convince herself she had dreamed the whole thing.

His skin still looked badly burned and he still looked feverish but his skin wasn’t unbearable to touch anymore. She supposed whatever has been going on with the wings and the grace was over now. She wondered if he would be different when he would wake up. She hoped not.

Slowly, she unfolded her legs, surprised to find them a bit unsteady. She could hear the faint echo of voices somewhere in the penthouse. Either the TV or Maze and Amenadiel. She needed to tell them he was better and then she needed to leave so he could heal…

She needed…

Fingers coiled around her wrist before she could get away from the bed.

“Stay with me.” he requested.

_If someone shows up, we might need back up._

The idea of someone – an _angel_ – coming to the penthouse and finding him so defenseless filled her with terror and fury. Logically, she knew it would have been better for her to leave so he could get his strength back and be ready to face a potential threat but _leaving him_?

No, she couldn’t leave him.

She climbed back on the bed and lied down, not minding it too much when he sneaked an arm around her waist and tugged her close to him. She was careful not to put weight on his burns but she embraced him back, petting his hair like she had petted the wings earlier.

Maze and Amenadiel might have a better chance at fighting off any potential angel but she could be his shield. She could protect him with her body if need be. She could protect him with everything she had and hope it would be enough.

She didn’t like thinking she was born to follow a greater purpose, she didn’t like the thought she had been manipulated even before she was conceived but… If her purpose was to love and help Lucifer…

Then, maybe it wasn’t so bad.


End file.
